Knowers & Demons I: Set the Captives Free
by Enthusiastic Fish
Summary: Entry for the NFA I've Got a Secret Challenge. Supernatural/horror genre. Tim's been keeping a secret, but now that Mongothsberd has reappeared, he has no choice but to reveal his secret to Tony...and hope that they'll both survive it. Eight chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** So, a while back, I had a nightmare. It was one of those vivid types that wake you up and then keep you from sleeping...and even from thinking about much else for a long time. So, I decided that I'd write it down rather than stew about it. It's my entry for the I've Got a Secret Challenge on the NFA and it's a supernatural/horror story, featuring Tim and Tony.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing of NCIS and I am making no money off of this story. The OCs are my own creation, but any recognizable characters are the property of DPB. I also do not own, nor do I make money from _Road to Morocco_.

* * *

**Set the Captives Free  
**by Enthusiastic Fish

**Chapter 1**

"I will _not_ keep this up any more, Tony! You want this job finished? Do it yourself!" Tim shouted.

"You think I like this any more than you do?" Tony shouted back.

"Have you two ever heard of being _quiet_?" The question was accompanied by two headslaps that silenced both of them.

Gibbs glared at the two angry agents and waited.

"Boss, I'm sorry, but Tony is just–"

"Me? Don't you try pinning this on me, McGrumpy. It's because you–"

_Thwack!_

_Thwack!_

"Shut up! I don't care whose fault it is. What I care about is that the two of you can't seem to pull your heads out of your butts long enough to actually do your job!"

They both knew better than to protest.

"That's better," Gibbs said. "Now, we got an anonymous tip last night that our dead Marine was seen in the town of Mongothsberd, Virginia, just off the Blue Ridge Mountain Road. You two are going to go and check it out."

Tim had suddenly gone pale. "No, Boss."

"Did I give the idea that this was open for debate, McGee?"

"Me and the Probie? Come on, Boss! Have a heart!"

"Get going! Here's the address. Plug it into the GPS. No one around here has ever heard of the place before; so don't get lost."

"Please, Boss. I..." Tim was nearly begging now, but such was Gibbs' annoyance and Tony's whining that neither of them noticed the change in his tone.

"Come on, Probie. I'm driving and if you say a word on the way, I reserve the right to kill you."

Tim didn't reply but he followed.

_I should have known I couldn't avoid it forever..._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"Where's the turnoff for this place?" Tony asked, a little unnerved by the silence from the other side of the car. Tim had not said a single word since they had set out for Mongothsberd and there was a definite air of gloom around him. He hadn't meant it literally when he had told Tim to keep quiet...but he was more than quiet. It was like a black hole of silence, sucking all other sounds in with it.

Tim was staring out the window.

"Probie!"

"Coming up on your right," Tim said softly. Tony noticed he wasn't even looking at the GPS directions. "It's called Thoven Lane. Two big oak trees on either side."

Sure enough. Another half mile and the road was there...just as Tim had described it.

"How did you know about the trees, McGee? That wouldn't be on the GPS."

Tim didn't answer...and then, Tony saw that the GPS wasn't even turned on.

"You been here before?"

"No."

"Why would our murder victim be out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"I doubt he was."

Tony took the turnoff and followed the narrow lane into the trees.

"Who builds a town in the middle of the forest?"

"No one."

"McGee, what is _up_ with you? You act like you're going to your execution."

A strange smile flickered across Tim's face. "You never know."

Suddenly, the trees thinned out and a small town appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. Tim took a long deep breath as they headed toward the center.

"Where do we go?"

"Just follow the road. It will get us there."

"But _where_? This is smaller than that town we went to three years ago, but there's more than one building."

"We'll end up where we have to be."

"But there doesn't seem to be anyone here!"

"There are people here."

"I don't see any."

"They're here."

As soon as Tim spoke, a man stepped out of the large central building which dominated the landscape and walked over to meet them. Tony got out of the car along with Tim and watched unnerved as the man walked over to Tim and held out his hand. Instead of shaking hands, Tim held his out, palm up. The man examined it and then nodded.

"Hey, you the one who reported seeing a Marine around here?" Tony asked...but somehow he knew that whatever was going on had nothing to do with the case. This was something very very different.

There was a strange stuttering...as if time had been paused briefly...and then, the man pointed to the building without saying a word.

The building was monstrous. It didn't look right for this place. It was too big. It was not tall...maybe two stories, but it was nearly as wide as two football fields. There were no windows. Only a single rather ornate door flanked by two carved oak trees.

Tim started walking toward the building.

"McGee, what's going on?"

Tim stopped at the door and looked back.

"Tony, you watch horror movies, right?"

"Yeah. Of course. Why?"

"Welcome to my horror movie. Only this one is real. You don't get to watch the rolling credits at the end and walk out of the movie theater...back to your real life. This _is_ my real life. You're not the one I would have picked to be involved, but...you're here. You have to be involved."

"Involved in what? McGee, you're freaking me out."

"You won't believe me until you see it for yourself." He turned back and started to twist the knob on the door.

Tony ran up beside him and suddenly, Tim grabbed Tony by the arm.

"Just remember, Tony...once we're inside. Stick with the one who has a gun."

"Huh?"

"Stay with the me that has a gun. Not the others. Even if that me doesn't say anything, that's the one you need to trust. That's the one who's safe."

"The you that has a gun? McGee, I think you're–"

Tim opened the door and stepped inside. Tony followed, his voice trailing off as he got his first look inside the monstrous building. He had expected to see the usual: doors, hallways, offices, things like that. What he saw was a huge open room with a long wall about 100 feet from him. There was one door and the wall extended almost to the outer walls. There was just enough space on either end for a hallway.

Tim gave Tony a frightened look and then took another step. Instantly, he was surrounded by black shadows. Tony was vaguely reminded of a scene from the second _Mummy_ movie...only instead of Arnold Vosloo, he was seeing Tim get attacked by strange black flying things...and instead of stripping Tim of superhuman powers...it was...

Tony couldn't believe his eyes and he could find no words in his head for what he was seeing. It was as though each black shape was pulling Tim out of himself. ...and then, there were three Tims, all facing each other...all...all Tim but...

"Probie," Tony whispered in horror. "What's going on?"


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The Tim in the middle seemed ready to collapse, his eyes half-closed, but none of them said a word. Tony took a step toward them and then the other two noticed his presence. There was something...very off about them. In his head Tony laughed at himself for thinking that there was something off about the fact that Tim had suddenly been cloned. Of course something was off. It was a lot more than off. Then, he remembered what Tim had said. The one with the gun. Not for nothing had he been trained as an investigator. Immediately, he noticed that there was a strange black tattoo on the palms of two of the Tims and that the one who was dazed had a gun. He ran, grabbed the armed Tim by the arm and started to drag him down the hall. The faces of the other two Tims twisted and became almost bestial.

"McGee, come on...whatever is going on...snap out of it!"

The armed Tim stumbled after Tony and then his eyes finally opened all the way. He looked at Tony, back over his shoulder and then began to run, dragging Tony in his wake. He didn't say a word. He took deep gasping breaths that echoed in Tony's ears, fueling his own fear. Then, without warning, someone grabbed him from behind, yanking him away from Tim. Tony was thrown to the floor and as he raised his hands to defend against his attacker, he saw that he was being attacked by...Tim. Only this Tim had no kindness, no uncertainty in his face. This Tim was full of animal-like ferocity...and there was a strange black tattoo on his palm. Tony noticed all this but only for a moment because he had to defend himself against the attacks of...whatever this was. The blows rained down fast and furious...too fast. Tim wasn't this good at fighting. But then, he stopped and instead of hitting Tony again, brought the palm with the tattoo down toward his face, toward his forehead.

It never got there. As Tony watched, slightly dazed himself, the Tim attacking him was pulled away by the armed Tim. Then, he was treated to a vision of the two Tims struggling with each other. There was a sizzling sound as the animal Tim closed his hand around the armed Tim's arm. Still, neither of them spoke. They didn't scream, curse, make any sound at all. Tony didn't know what to do, what to say. He just got to his feet with the vague idea of helping...somehow. Then, the attacking Tim was thrown against the wall...hard. He sagged and the armed Tim brought his own hand to the forehead of the slumping Tim. There was a _whoosh_ of air and then the world rippled and the two Tims merged into one with an explosion of energy that threw the resulting Tim across the hallway to the other wall where he slumped to the floor, his eyes closed, blood staining the collar of his shirt.

Tony ran to him.

"Hey, Probie...Probie, you okay? Wake up!"

With a moan, Tim's eyes flickered open and he stared up at Tony.

"What happened?"

Tony had to laugh at the question. "I have no idea. You mind explaining to me what is going on?"

"Is he gone?"

"Who? The other you?"

"Yeah."

"I guess. You seemed to...suck him up."

Tim nodded and winced at the motion.

"Yeah. That's what I thought would happen."

"What's going on?"

"Where's the other one?"

"I...don't know. He didn't come after us."

"He will," Tim said and tried to sit up...failing miserably. "He will. He has to. He's me."

"You...I...don't get it. McGee, you want to explain to me why we've suddenly stepped into the mind of Stephen King?"

"Not here. Not now. Not while there's still the other me running around. It's not safe." He tried to get up again.

"Whoa! Slow down, there, McGee."

"We can't. We can't, Tony. There's no time to slow down!"

Seeing that it was futile to make Tim stay down, Tony helped him stand...and then, let Tim lean on him while he got his bearings again.

"We need to go through the door."

"Back outside?" Tony asked hopefully.

"No. Further in. We can't leave now that it's started. I tried to do this once before but it didn't work..because I was alone."

"I thought you said you'd never been here before."

"I haven't. The last time I tried...I was in Ohio, not Virginia. The first time I was here was in...California...at a carnival."

"What?"

"Help me find the door. There should be one on each side of the room." Tim stopped leaning and stumbled forward. "And watch for the other me."

"Okay." What else could he say, really.

It took a few minutes. The door seemed camouflaged to the walls. Finally, there it was and Tim reached out to open the door.

"Wait, McGee...you're not going to split into three again, are you?"

Tim smiled tiredly. "No. Not this time...but he'll follow. He'll be there...and..." He swallowed nervously. "And I'm sure we'll run into the Proprietor soon enough."

Tony could have sworn he heard the capital P on Proprietor. "I take it that's a bad thing?"

"Yeah. Pretty bad."

"Okay."

Tim opened the door, and again, Tony was surprised. He wasn't sure what he had expected this time, but not what he saw. This room was bright! The walls were white and the lights were bright making it almost impossible to see any details at all. Tim reeled back against Tony as if he'd been hit but then he straightened and stepped inside.

"Have to keep going."

"To beat the other you?"

"No. He can't do it without all of us."

"Um...okay."

"Just don't let me turn back, Tony. I can't turn back."

"Why not? You'll turn into a pillar of salt?"

Tim laughed. "No."

Far away...or close by. It was hard to tell. A large black...box? It wasn't just black. It was a shiny surface, like obsidian...or maybe onyx. Whatever it was, it stood out in the bright white lights, but it could be five feet away or a hundred and it would be impossible to tell. Tim took another step and then another. The box began to grow larger as they approached.

"This room seems bigger than the one we were in before."

"Could be."

"What happened to the laws of physics, Probie? I thought you were all about empirical evidence."

Tim stopped and turned around. His face was strained with the effort of walking through the light. It bothered Tony but it wasn't enervating him as it seemed to be enervating Tim.

"Tony, don't you understand yet? This _is_ empirical evidence! This is something I've been dreading for most of my life. What I have to do is...I hope...a good thing, but I don't know. All I know is that I've been...literally branded for this since I was five years old. Branded with this." He held up his palm and now Tony could see that the same black tattoo was on his hand. It looked vaguely like a three-headed dragon...all tangled and entwined into one body.

"Three into one," Tim said with the air of an incantation. "Right now, I'm incomplete. I'm missing part of myself, but that self doesn't want to be part again. Doesn't want to face what I know we have to face. He will fight me and kill me if he can...just as he will kill you if he can. If he wins...I don't know what will happen."

"Then, we'll make sure he doesn't win."

"You can't help, Tony. You can't fight him...not unless he's fighting you...because he doesn't really exist that way. You can't kill him because he's me."

"I don't get it."

"Would it make you feel any better if I told you that I don't exactly get it either?"

"No, not particularly."

"I didn't think so."

Then, across the white room, a door opened. It seemed as black as the building did at first, but then, standing in stark contrast to the white walls...Tim was there.

"Run, Tony! To the door!"

"Why? Don't you need him?"

"I can't fight him in here. This place...it's...it's wrong, somehow. I need to get through the next door!" He started pushing at Tony to get him to run. Gone was any thought of arguing. The urgency in Tim's tone forced him to move along.

"Okay!"

They ran toward the black box...which was now more the size of a small building rather than a box...but still that solid black.

"Go, go, go, go..." Tim was whispering behind him. Tony reached back and yanked Tim along. Whatever was wrong it seemed to be getting worse. Then, without warning, they both ran full-out into the side of the...building. It knocked them backwards onto their rear ends and Tony had time to notice that the same image Tim had on his palm was also etched into the glimmering black walls.

"Find the door!" Tim said and climbed to his feet. "There should be..."

"One on each side."

"Yes."

Tim found it this time...but he was fast losing whatever energy he had left. Tony pushed him out of the way and pulled at the heavy door. Just as it opened, the other Tim reached them. He ignored Tony completely and launched himself at Tim who was sagging against the wall.

"McGee!" Tony called, just in time. Tim looked up and managed to move out of the way so that the other Tim hit the wall and not him. Tony grabbed Tim's arm and dragged him into the next room. ...which again, took him completely by surprise. If it weren't for the fact that it was still the size of a large warehouse (or maybe ten large warehouses), it would look like an old-fashioned study. The walls...which were no longer square...were lined with bookshelves and filled with antique-looking books. The floor was carpeted, a thick shag carpet that muffled all the sound they'd been making.

"What?" Tony asked in shock...but there was no time to stare, Tim flew in past him, the other Tim on his back, knocking him to the floor. He reached out to help but was held back...not by any actual force but by the realization that anything he did to this...other Tim would also affect his friend...because it _was_ his friend. He didn't know where the epiphany came from but he knew somehow that if he took a look at Tim's current injuries, they would be a combination of his own _and_ that first Tim.

The other Tim seemed to get the upper hand and he flung Tim back against the wall of books. The shelves broke sending the tomes cascading down on top of him. Tim seemed buried beneath the books.

"McGee!" Tony called and began to run forward, but then, as the other Tim knelt down to...do whatever that forehead-touching thing actually did, Tim's hand reached up and clapped onto his clone's forehead. Surging upward from the pile of books, Tim reached his other hand around to the back of the attacking Tim's head and held him in place. There was that same rippling motion of the world as Tim finally retrieved his other self. This time, however, the rippling didn't stop with the disappearance of the other Tim. The black shadows returned and swarmed around Tim, seeming to multiply as they attacked. They had no definite shape and they moved so fast that they were blurred anyway. There were so many of them that it was hard to see Tim at all. It was a frightening sight... but it was nothing to the sound of Tim suddenly screaming.

_Forget it, Probie. I'm not going to stand here and watch you die in front of me._ Tony flung himself into the mass of shadows and was surprised that he didn't actually touch anything but Tim, knocking him flat on his back. His eyes were open...and solid black. Black like the outer walls of this room. Tony could see himself reflected in those black eyes.

Then, Tim sat up and stared at Tony. The black eyes wide open, so wide that it was like looking into two mirrors.

"What have you done?" The voice was not Tim's voice. It was the voice of...of something else, something foreign, alien...and Tony was fairly certain that this was also something evil.

"Who are you?" he asked, pleased that he'd managed to keep his voice from shaking.

"I am the Master. The Possessor. The Proprietor...as he called me."

"What's going on?"

"Three into one." The Proprietor held up Tim's hand and smiled and Tony wasn't sure he could think of anything he'd seen before that frightened him more.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The tattoo on Tim's palm seemed to come alive as the three-headed dragon (or whatever it was) began to writhe.

"Where's Tim?"

"Oh, he's in here. He's fighting to get me out. I almost had him. He was weakened by the separation."

"You did that?"

"It's the way I keep out unwanted visitors."

The parts of the tattoo began to weave themselves around Tim's hand, swirling up and down the fingers, curling around the knuckles.

"Why didn't it happen to me?"

"Three into one," he said again.

"What does that mean?"

The laugh that answered his question was horrible to hear. It wasn't loud, but soft and distorted. He could give every evil villain since the beginning of time a run for his money. Tony felt as though his own skin was crawling and actually had to look down to be sure that it wasn't. His skin was staying firmly where it should be.

The Proprietor just stared at Tony after his laughter died away. He seemed to be waiting, but Tony felt as though he'd been tossed into a swimming pool with lead weights on his feet and then told to swim. He was sinking fast.

"He's losing," the Proprietor whispered.

Then, without thinking, Tony punched the Proprietor hard in the face, as hard as he could, sending him reeling back into the broken bookcase. Anything to stop that voice that was not Tim, to close those eyes that weren't Tim's, to stop this madness.

There was a long low moan.

"Probie?"

"He's gone?" the voice was weak, shaky...and totally and completely Tim. Tony almost cried with relief.

"Yeah, he's gone. That's the Proprietor, huh?"

Tim sat up, blinking his now-green eyes. "He is...yes."

"What happened?"

"I couldn't hold him off. What did you do?"

"I punched him...you in the face."

"Oh. I thought it was just from the...other part."

"No. That was me."

Tim blinked slowly. "Thank you. I think."

"Can you tell me what's going on now, Probie? Please?"

"Help me out of this pile, please?"

Tony extended a hand and helped a very-weakened Tim get to his feet. They tripped over the volumes laying on the floor and then, Tim sagged against the outer wall, staring morosely at what Tony realized was...another wall. This one was cylindrical, a matte gray. The door stood out because it was like the doors on submarines.

"He needs to work on his interior design," Tony said.

Tim just slid down the wall until he hit the floor with a soft thump.

"We have a few minutes?"

"Probably."

"Probably?"

"I don't know. I never made it this far before."

"Okay, please, start at the beginning and tell me why it is that you know this place but haven't been here, how it is that you got split into thirds and then put back together...and then possessed, what you're doing here, and why you...why you..."

"Why what, Tony?" Tim asked.

"I don't know! I can't even think up the questions to ask! This is like a bad horror movie!"

Tim nodded in agreement. He knew that better than Tony did. "It even started like a bad horror movie."

"What happened?"

"_This_ is like a bad horror movie," Tim said and laughed.

"How do you mean?"

"I just engaged in a desperate struggle for my soul and now you're asking me to relate childhood memories."

Tony laughed. "You're right. But still, Probie, if I'm going to be able to do anything, I need to know what's going on. ...at least to some degree."

"You're right," Tim said nodding.

"Where did it start?"

"In California...at a carnival..."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

_25 years ago..._

"My dad had just come back from his latest deployment. The carnival had come to town. It was a different one than the usual, though..."

"_Step right up! Step right up! One price admission to the whole place! Enter at your own peril!"_

"It felt weird. I wasn't very old but I felt the difference. There was an air about it that felt wrong..."

"_Three, please. Two adults, one child."_

"_Ah, and a special child I can see that right away."_

_Naomi laughed and ruffled Tim's hair. "He is special."_

"We paid and walked around. My parents never seemed to notice it, what I felt...I don't think they even saw what I saw..."

"_Come into my parlor... Get a free glimpse of your future." The woman had mysterious eyes, bright green and large._

"_And how much for what comes after the glimpse?" Sam asked._

"_Oh, only a glimpse is all anyone can get of the future. Is that not enough?"_

"The lady was friendly, more alive than anyone else in the place."

"More alive?"

"Yeah...like she seemed to have...more color over top of this dingy backdrop...and when we stepped inside..."

"_Mom? Mom?" Tim tugged violently at Naomi's hand. She had frozen in place._

"_She will not hear you."_

_Tim turned away and faced the woman. Her green eyes nearly glowed. She held out her hand and Tim backed away._

"_I will not harm you. You must come and see."_

"_See what?"_

"_See what you must do. You are the hope for us to be free."_

"_I don't understand."_

"_You will in time. You will remember."_

_Again she held out her hand. Unsure, but somehow trusting her, Tim reached out and took her hand..._

"She tattooed your hand? When you were five?"

"It didn't hurt very much. Happened in a second. Then, it was over. That was only the beginning anyway..."

"_Come and look."_

"_What happened to my hand?"_

"_You are marked now with the sign of who you are."_

"_It looks like dragons. I'm not a dragon."_

"_You are three in one."_

"_What?"_

"_Mind...body...heart. Together they make your soul...a soul which can be divided...and still survive the division."_

_Tim didn't understand what she was saying...but there was a part of him that heard and remembered it all. She gestured toward the magic ball she had on her table. It was not crystal. It was black. Like hematite, smooth and shiny but no reflection. She waved her hand over it and a light burst out._

"_This is Mongothsberd. This is where we are trapped. This is our existence, held here forever at his mercy...and he has none."_

"_Where is it?"_

"_It is at the end of Thoven Lane. It is always at the end of Thoven Lane. Sometimes, people come into it unknowing. Sometimes, he drags them, screaming for the mercy he does not possess. Sometimes, they simply disappear. We all end up in Mongothsberd."_

"_But where is it?"_

"_It is everywhere. Nowhere. Today it is here. Tomorrow it will be somewhere else. It is never in the same place twice and it only appears when he brings someone else into its borders."_

"_What am I supposed to do?"_

"_Set us free."_

"_How?"_

"_You will know. That is your destiny. You are a knower, Timothy McGee. You know things with your mind, your heart, your body. All of you. It is a complete knowing and so you cannot forget."_

"_I forget to make my bed in the morning when Mom tells me to."_

_She smiled. "This is not that kind of knowing. Your sense of self, your being. It is who you are and it cannot be taken from you. Whatever you choose in your life it will define you. ...but this is the thing that has chosen _you_. You cannot escape this. Mongothsberd will appear when you least expect it. You cannot avoid it, no matter how you try."_

_Tim felt frightened and he looked up at his mother again. She was still frozen._

"_I don't want..."_

"_We do not choose our destiny. We choose how we confront it. You may choose to run away. You will have to live with the consequences...but Mongothsberd will appear...again and again...until finally you accept either its call or its Master."_

"_What do I do?"_

"_For now, you wait. You can do nothing until it calls to you. You will have dreams to remind you, to lead you along...but in the end, only you will know what must be done. You cannot hope to do it alone. You are three in one but you must have one to help you."_

"_I'm strong," Tim asserted, fixating on the few parts of the conversation he understood._

_Again, she smiled tenderly as if she understood how he felt. _

"_You are strong, but even the strong need help...and you will need help. No one can breach Mongothsberd alone. You may try but you will be repelled. You will fail."_

_She held out her hand again and Tim took it. Gently, the woman turned it over; the black tattoo on his palm shivered at the contact. She touched it and there was a clap of thunder...like reality breaking apart._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"And?" Tony asked.

"And I was in the car, just as we pulled up to the carnival. It was not the same carnival. It was the stereotypical bright lights, clowns, rides. My parents didn't remember anything. It hadn't happened for them." Tim paused and looked over at Tony knowingly. "Just like you don't remember me talking to the man we saw out front."

"You didn't talk to him. He didn't say anything."

"Exactly."

"Okay...so...what did he say?"

"He asked who I was...and who you were...and if I really thought I could do it this time. He asked to see the mark and I showed it to him."

"But you didn't have it until we came in!"

Tim smiled and shook his head. "No, I've always had it. No one has been able to see it...except me. I tried to show my parents but they thought I'd had a nightmare on the trip over. I thought maybe that's what it was...until the dreams started...but they weren't dreams."

Tim looked at the gray wall again and heaved himself to his feet. He wobbled a little and put his hand to his head.

"McGee...what's going to happen?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I have to try to set them free...and the way to do that in inside that room."

"That's why that...thing possessed you?"

"Yeah. He's the one who takes them."

"Why?"

"I don't know...I think he steals their souls."

"I hope you realize how–"

"–crazy this sounds? Yeah. Why do you think I didn't ever tell anyone about it...or even tell you until you had the unique opportunity of seeing me ripped into three parts? Can you imagine the reaction? 'Guess what guys, I have this tattoo on my hand. Can't see it? Well, it's there. It was given to me by this fortune teller who asked me to free her soul from a thing that has possessed her and many others.'" He arched an eyebrow at Tony. "What would you have said?"

"That you're a loony."

"I know." He limped toward the door. "I don't know what is in here. My dreams got me to this room...but not beyond." He put his hand, the tattooed hand, on the door and Tony heard a sizzling sound. "I'm afraid of what's in here, Tony. It's haunted me my whole life. It's a secret I've kept and never told to anyone because I knew they wouldn't believe me." He pulled his hand away and Tony was shocked to see Tim's tattoo burned onto the door. He turned back around. "This might end in my death...or worse, it might end in me losing my own soul...but she was right. I can't avoid it, not forever, and I won't. I will _not_ ally myself with that thing, the Proprietor."

"Are you sure we aren't just both having some sort of crazy hallucination?"

"It might be nice to think that, but no."

"You'd rather believe that there's some soul-sucking monster running around who can only be stopped by a guy with an apparently dividable soul...and a crazy tattoo that comes alive?"

Tim looked at the door. "'There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.' Hamlet. Act one, scene five."

"Why do I need to be here?"

"You've seen it already. I can't do this by myself. There's only so much I can do. It has to be me, but there has to be someone else to help."

"And you wouldn't have picked me?"

Tim shook his head. "No. Would _you_ have picked you?"

Tony smiled. "No. I would have picked...well, actually, I'm not sure _who_ I would have picked. Abby would be the most likely to accept it all...but I don't think she'd be the most likely one to be able to help."

"Exactly. I don't know who I would have picked either...which is why I tried to do it alone the first time...and I failed. I couldn't even get through the door."

"How old were you?"

"Sixteen. It was right before I went off to college. I heard the name...and I had to go. No way to avoid it...but I didn't have anyone with me. I would have taken my dad...but..."

"He was paralyzed," Tony finished.

"Yeah. There was no one else I could think of to ask...so I tried to go alone, but it doesn't work that way. The man outside wouldn't even let me in. He said I would die...and not even Mongothsberd would have me. I'd be annihilated, wiped out of existence. These souls, trapped as they are, at least still exist. I'm in danger of becoming nothing."

"Then, why do it?"

"Because I don't have a choice, not really. I could choose to run, like she said, but in the end...I can't leave these people here trapped."

"Are you sure they should be set free? That lady didn't sound like the picture of innocence. What if she's evil?"

"No," Tim said and rested his head on the etched image. "No, I'm not sure. I know so little...but what I do know is that I've heard these people cry out for freedom. I can't deny them that. I can't."

Tim raised both hands and rested them on the door as well. It was fear holding him back now, fear of what would be coming, fear of the price he might have to pay to set these people free, fear of what lay behind the one door he had never opened.

"Okay, McGee. Let me help."

"How?"

"I'll help you open the door...and I'll be there for whatever craziness is coming next."

Tim straightened.

"Even if that's all you can do, Tony...that's more than I ever could have asked."

Tony smiled and together they twirled the wheel before opening the surprisingly thick door. It was like the vault of a bank or something like that. Heavy.

They both stood motionless in shock at what lay inside.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

It was black...not the black of onyx or obsidian. Not the black of hematite. Not even the black of a cave or of night. This was the inky blackness of space...with a light dusting of stars. They were staring at the universe.

Tony's mouth was open...Tim's was not but his eyes were wide.

"Can we step in there, you think?" Tony asked.

"One way to find out," Tim said and took a step before Tony could stop him. Tim walked into the universe. Tim was shaking and strangely illuminated in the space. He looked back over his shoulder and his eyes went wide. "Tony? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, McGee."

But Tim couldn't hear him and didn't even see him. It was like he'd stepped out of the world and into space. "Tony?"

As frightening as it was, Tony grimaced and took a step into the empty blackness.

"Tony!" Tim said, incredibly relieved. "You disappeared...I thought...I don't know what I thought."

"This is...very freaky, McGee."

"Yeah. Yeah...you're right."

"How big is this place?"

"Who knows? It could be light years...maybe...maybe twenty feet." Tim voice was shaking almost as much as he was.

"What's up, McGee?"

Can't you hear them, Tony? They're so loud."

"Hear who?"

"Them. Their voices!" Tim looked around, completely spooked. "They're all here! All of them!"

"I don't hear anything."

Tim spun around in a circle and then began walking farther into space.

"I don't know what to do!" he shouted. "Help!"

"McGee!" Tony hurried after him.

Tim stopped suddenly, facing away from Tony.

"McGee! Wait up!" Tony turned him around...and then backed away in horror

Tim's eyes were black...but when he spoke it was still his voice.

"Tony...I..." He panted and then arched backward away, yanking himself from Tony's grip. A swirl of energy surrounded him, flinging Tony back, leaving him watching, horrified, as multi-colored shafts of light stabbed through Tim's body. His eyes never closed. They were black. As bottomless as the space in which they were floating.

_Floating?_

But yes. At some point, the ground, the floor had disappeared and there was only space around them. There was no door. There was no light...except for the illumination around Tim, bearing him up. He was not limp but nor was he under his own power. His mouth was open in a silent scream and his arms raised, hands facing Tony, fingers splayed to their fullest extent. The tattoo on his right palm grew and began to swarm all over his body. Occasionally, Tony caught glimpses of multiple Tims but they always returned, solidifying into one.

"To-ny...he-lp...me..." Tim's voice was shifting from his own to that horrible alien tone and back.

Tony tried to walk forward but he couldn't move. Or rather...he could move but it didn't actually result in forward motion. Tim didn't seem to get any closer.

_This is why Tim needed you here, dang it! You can still move!_

Tony forced himself to look down...and down...and down...and there was no floor there, but he knew there had to be. There had to be because he would not accept that this could be anywhere than the backwoods of Virginia. He wouldn't accept that. He thought he could see something...flat. If he stared really hard at it, there was something there. He forced his foot down and touched...solid ground.

_Ha!_ But even with himself on the ground, that didn't solve the problem of Tim hanging in the air, struggling against...something...trying to help a bunch of...whatevers only he could hear. He really wished that he could just say this wasn't happening...but it seemed to be.

Squaring his shoulders, Tony forced himself to walk forward on the floor he knew was there and he was surprised to find that Tim was actually standing on the floor as well. It had looked like he was floating in the air.

"McGee!" He reached out...but for some reason, he couldn't actually touch Tim. He was too far away. How had that happened? "McGee! You need to stretch your hand. I can't reach you by myself."

"He can't hear you!" The voice was almost taunting...but at the same time Tim's right hand, the one with the tattoo, reached out. It turned out to be just far enough. Tony grabbed Tim's hand and pulled him...down? Over? It didn't seem to be any real direction because as soon as he reached Tim's hand, Tim was there.

"He's...he's still here, Tony," Tim whispered. "That's what the problem is."

"Okay...so how do we get rid of him?"

"There's only one way," Tim said, softly.

"How's that?"

"I die."

"What?"

"He's inside me, Tony. He won't give me up without a fight."

"No, McGee. No, that's unacceptable."

"If I'm dead...he'll leave...or he'll be trapped inside my body when I die."

"And then what?"

"They'll be free."

"No, McGee!" Tony protested.

Tim was suddenly far away from him again. Tony had no idea how it happened.

"It's the only way, Tony...I'm sorry. You'll understand." Tim pulled out his gun and before Tony could do more than shriek a wordless protest, Tim pointed it at his own chest and fired.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Tony stood there staring in absolute shock as Tim seemed to sink to the ground in slow motion. He did not drop the gun, but the blackness left his eyes. A whorl of blackness began to seep out of his eyes, gathering in a twisting black cloud above him, knotting, tangling in itself and it seemed to be sucking the universe in with it as Tim fell onto his back, his eyes staring straight up.

Tony barely noticed all that, however. His eyes were fixed on the bullet hole in Tim's chest, Tim's open...dead eyes. He felt tears in his own. This really was a horror movie...and there were no ending credits.

The swirling continued and Tony dropped to his knees, still looking only at Tim.

Then, after a few minutes, he noticed that there was no darkness, no space, no swirling cloud of evil. Just Tim, bleeding out on the floor. Just a big empty room...

...filled with green light?

Tony looked up and saw the shafts of light he had seen before swirl down from the ceiling. A ceiling that he could almost see. It glowed with a strange light. Those strange lights came down in tendrils, swooping down, around Tim. More lights, green...blue...red. They came down and covered Tim from head to toe. There were so many lights that Tony couldn't look...not that he could see much anyway with the tears he couldn't hold back.

Suddenly, the lights disappeared, leaving Tony and Tim in a dim, gray light...which was coming from a skylight, Tony realized. The entire ceiling was a skylight far above his head. He looked up at it...but a sound drew his eyes, unbelieving, back down.

Tim's body moved.

There was no blood on the floor.

There was still a hole in Tim's shirt but there was no blood.

Tim's eyes were still staring dead-like up at the ceiling, but then, they blinked.

Then, Tim took a breath...then, another.

Tony nearly fell over trying to move to him.

Tim blinked again. ...and took another breath.

"McGee?" Tony whispered, almost afraid to hope.

"Tony," came the soft reply.

"You're alive?"

"Yeah."

"How?"

"I don't know."

"He left."

"Yeah."

"What now?"

"I don't know."

Tim blinked again and sat up, hand to his chest. He and Tony stared at each other for a long moment.

"You ever do that again..." Tony said.

Tim met his gaze, promising nothing, and then stood up, wincing. "This is where it has to be."

"What?"

"The ending point. This is the central node. Everything points here...but I don't see anything here. Do you?"

"No."

Tim ignored Tony's accusing gaze. There was no way he could explain how it had felt to have that evil thing crawling around inside him, to be at the mercy of something so dark. Something that, as he had been told, had no mercy at all. He shivered remembering it. Then, his eye fell upon the wall. It was small, barely visible if you weren't watching for it.

"There it is," he said, catching Tony's attention.

"What?"

"There." Tim walked over and put his right hand directly over the small etching of his tattoo.

"Probie...wha–?"

Tony didn't get a chance to finish his question. The room began to shake. A roaring sound drowned out the possibility of verbal communication. The ceiling overhead shattered, sending fine bits of glass down on them, forcing them to cover their eyes.

The shaking intensified and both men were thrown off their feet and a small dais appeared in the center of the room. Emblazoned on it was the same symbol Tim had on his palm. Tim got to his feet and walked toward the dais.

"Wait, McGee!"

"What?"

"What's going to happen this time?"

"I don't know," Tim said, but he never looked away from the symbol. It was drawing him closer...ever closer. "I just know that whatever happens has to happen."

"No, it doesn't!"

"Yes. ...not because I have no choice but because I can't do anything else...and still be who I am. I chose to go into law enforcement because I wanted to help people, to keep them safe. How can I walk away from all these cries and leave them to suffer? I can't. So...this has to happen." He pushed past Tony and stepped onto the dais.

The darkness began to creep in once more, the Proprietor having been signaled that Tim was alive and trying again.

"Probie!"

"I see it!" Tim straightened himself, orienting his body to stand perfectly on the symbol.

"Three into one!" he shouted. With all the force of a sonic boom, the words reverberated around the room as Tim stood. The sound coiled around the darkness, temporarily holding it back.

"Mind!" A shaft of blue light pierced through Tim's head, lighting up his eyes.

"Body!" Another shaft, this time green, came up from the ground, surrounding him entirely.

"Heart!" A final shaft of pure white light stabbed straight through Tim's chest.

The darkness freed itself from the entrapping sound. It coiled itself and prepared to launch.

"Probie!" Tony shouted, trying to make himself heard above the roaring. He tried to move but looked down and found that there was a gentle hand holding him in place.

"This must be his fight now. You can do nothing more for him but wait until the end."

Tony looked back and saw a woman with bright green eyes, a green glow enveloping her. She was not looking at him, but at Tim, a sad smile on her face.

"You're the one..."

"He may succeed where the others have failed."

"Others?"

"Yes. One every generation. There is always one...and we are drawn to that one. Mongothsberd is bound to them...and they are bound to Mongothsberd."

The darkness coiled again, having been repelled by the light. Tim fell to the dais, the light began to twist and knot as the darkness began to spin around it, swirling faster and faster and closer and closer.

"He's not going to make it!"

"He is so close."

Tony tried to run forward again, but the hand on his arm, as insubstantial as it appeared, was strong.

"McGee, you can do it!" Tony shouted, pulling against that hand.

"No, you must stand still. You cannot do what he can do. He can survive the division. He must see what they are together. He will do it."

Finally, Tony stopped fighting the arm and watched, willing Tim to fight back, willing him to win. He didn't like standing on the sidelines, but he had to admit, this time, that there was nothing else he could do. He could only watch the struggle.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

It was like nothing he had ever felt before. Tim felt as though he had a million watts of electricity surging through him, through every part of who he was. He could see them all now. They were all tightly bound, not with cords. There were no bars. They were held by the force of the darkness the Proprietor commanded. These were people who had nearly died and at the moment of death, their souls had been stolen, supporting this evil, feeding its darkness. Falsity in place of true life. Even death had its place in life. Take it away and the cycle is disrupted. He could see it...but he could also feel the power weakening. He couldn't figure out how to let that power out of him before the darkness smothered it, smothered him. Erased him from existence...and through that, erasing any chance of freeing them. The power would die inside him...forever.

The words he had shouted echoed in his head and he saw them, separate pieces. All necessary. Without them... Of course! That was it. That was always it. Always had been. He struggled back to his feet.

The darkness dove toward him just as he screamed the final word, the word that released the power from inside him and sent it out, through the streets of Mongothsberd, through the air, saturating every bit of it with the energy that could break the bonds. Mongothsberd was not death. It was not life. It was that space in between. Stagnant, static. Never changing.

"Life!" Tim shouted and felt the darkness come over him, swirling through him even as the energy surged from him out into the air, freeing the souls so long kept bound, allowing them the chance to complete the cycle of their lives. The darkness, the Proprietor, knew his time was drawing to an end and he would take the one soul with him as he fell into oblivion. Tim felt it drawing tightly around him, smothering him, choking his soul off from the life around him...sucking him down into nothing.

Tim fought, desperate to live...because he knew that if he lost this struggle, he would not die. He would cease to exist.

"No!"

The sound, a real sound, pierced through the encroaching darkness and Tim felt himself falling. Falling...falling...endlessly into...


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

"No, McGee!" Tony shouted and ran at the dais. The lights were disappearing. _Tim_ was disappearing beneath the onslaught of the darkness. He ran...but then, stopped and watched in a kind of morbid fascination as Tim..._split_ into three separate beings, all of them now surrounding the darkness which had been surrounding _them_. Each one, simultaneously, put out their right hand and the tattoo which had writhed all over Tim before surged off each Tim's palm and began swirling over and around the darkness that was the Proprietor.

There was an inhuman shriek that burst out of the swirling mass in an explosion of sound. ...but it wasn't sound...not exactly. Tony heard it, but he didn't _really_ hear it. He felt it...but what happened next, he never saw clearly. There was a sheen of green light which came between him and the dais. All he could see was something happening to Tim...to the Tims. That three-headed dragon or whatever it was seemed to have grown to the size of the room...or maybe not considering space didn't seem to have any meaning in this place anyway.

In slow motion, the Tims wavered, rippling in the continuing explosion...and then, the rippling pulled them closer and closer together before suddenly being one again.

The dais disappeared. The dragon thing disappeared. The blackness shriveled and faded, ground to nothing itself. ...and Tim was falling, falling.

The green light disappeared and Tony ran forward against some sort of howling wind. Somehow he managed to get to Tim before he hit the ground. He wasn't even sure why Tim was falling from such a great height or when he had reached such a position. Regardless, he caught him and eased him to the...dirt.

_Dirt?_

Tony's mind got distracted from that stimulus because suddenly Tim gave a great spasm and was still, his eyes closing, his body limp and seeming somehow empty.

"McGee?" he said.

Painful silence.

"He has done it."

Tony looked from Tim to the woman. She seemed more alive than their surroundings.

"He looks dead."

"He is not." She reached out and took Tim's limp right hand, turned it palm up and exhaled gently on the livid tattoo. It was not black but red. Then, she raised her other hand high above her head and said simply, "Come."

Before Tony could ask what she was doing, a swirl of white light came and gathered in her hand. Slowly, she brought that light down and put it over the tattoo. It seemed to be absorbed into Tim's hand and Tim took a breath.

"What did you just do?" Tony asked...somehow more weirded out by this one moment than he had been by all that had come before.

"His spirit was weakened. I gave him strength, strength which the souls he freed gave to him. Their lives were at an end and they gave the last of themselves to him...because _his_ life is not over." She breathed on the tattoo again and it turned black once more. Then, she gently laid the hand on his chest.

"Wait...they died for him?"

"They should have died long ago," she said. "This was prevented and the darkness fed off their pain and their longing. They could neither live nor die. Timothy gave them what was needed. They have now died and passed on."

"Where are we?"

Tony looked down and saw Tim's eyes open, staring up at...

...the open sky?

For the first time, Tony looked around and there was no building, no strange rooms, no...no Mongothsberd. They were in the middle of a small clearing in the trees, the NCIS sedan sitting just at the end of what had probably been a logging road back in the day.

"Looks like Virginia," Tony said. "You all right?"

Tim appeared to think about that for a long moment.

"Maybe."

"You will be fine. It will take some time for you to recover fully."

Tim's eyes shifted onto the woman. "You."

"Yes. Thank you, Timothy McGee. You have set us free."

"Who are you?"

"I was the first resident of Mongothsberd. It was created for me."

Tim sat up quickly...too quickly. He had to put an equally quick hand to the ground to steady himself.

"What?"

She reached out a hand to help him. They both noticed that she was translucent. They could almost see through her, but not quite.

"Four hundred years ago, I should have died, but my husband...he loved me so dearly. He was a knower like yourself, Timothy. He did not want to lose me and so he called on all the power he possessed to create a world in which I could live and he could join me." Her hand dropped to the earth. "Alas, he did not fully understand the powers on which he called...or if he did, he convinced himself that he could control them. He was wrong. I should have died but I was trapped here, forever feeling the need to go on...but never able, never able to go back. Just stuck here. ...and it was here that I was found by that evil spirit."

Tony couldn't help himself, even after all he'd seen. He made a slightly skeptical sound. In response, she pointed at the black ball which had suddenly appeared on the ground.

"There are spirits in this world, Anthony," she said, waving her hand over the ball, and bringing out frightening images. "They exist on a different plane, but they are here. The evil spirits and the good ones as well. The evil spirits do not usually have power to overtake us. Life has power over the sort of existence they possess...but I...I was the source of power which allowed Mongothsberd to grow. That evil spirit, that darkness found me. In my weakened state, trapped between life and death, I could not fight him and he bound me, feeding off my pain, holding me from moving on. It gave him power. Power enough to find others in the same position. He began to add those at the point of death to the population in Mongothsberd. He heard their cries, and using the power he took from me, he trapped their souls."

"What about your husband?"

"He had thought, for many years, that he had simply lost me and he focused on raising our children. We were members of a traveling group. We have been called gypsies. We gave performances but our true purpose was understanding the power that was possible to exert over the world of spirits. It was a dangerous learning and many were uncertain it should be done at all. My husband and I were not among the skeptics. ...but after I disappeared, he feared for what he may have done and swore he would no longer meddle in those things. Instead, he strove to understand his own gift of knowing."

She was fading ever more as she spoke but although she noticed her own transparency, it did not seem to frighten her. Rather she smiled when she saw Tim and Tony staring _through_ her.

"It took many years, but I was able to use my own meager strength...and that lent to me by the others trapped in Mongothsberd to contact my husband. Briefly, the town appeared. As soon as it appeared, it had always been there. My husband heard the name and he came. He entered the gates and saw me there. As quickly as I could, I told him what he had done, to what purposes I had been used. It nearly killed him to know what his rash act had wrought. He swore to me that he would free me...somehow. If he could not, he swore to me...and to the others trapped here that one of our descendants would. He would pass on what he knew to those who came after."

Her bright green eyes met Tim's own.

"Me?"

She smiled. "It has been four hundred years since he made that vow. There are many many people who would be counted our descendants. However, you are the part of this generation who received his knowing. Because of the oath, we have been drawn to wherever that person may be. By the same token, the Proprietor was also drawn...although he would not have liked knowing he was still at the mercy of the living." Her smile became one of satisfaction. "That symbol has always been the symbol of the knowers, back many centuries before my husband's birth. Perhaps with the destruction of Mongothsberd, the knowers will cease to appear, perhaps not."

"I always did feel like I could trust you, like I knew you," Tim said in wonder.

"That is because we are of the same blood. It is that, along with your own sense of duty, that led you to be willing to make the sacrifice you did."

"But you told me that I had a destiny I couldn't avoid."

"Yes. I knew your destiny because I could see in you what I saw in my husband. He felt that he _had_ to free me, to destroy Mongothsberd because he felt responsible for its creation, because he pitied those trapped there and he felt great sorrow and remorse for what he had done to me, his wife, whom he dearly loved. You received that from him."

The woman stood, brushing the dirt from her clothes. Tim also stood hurriedly but had to be supported by Tony who had followed Tim's example.

"Who are you?"

"I am Rhian," she said simply and turned to Tony, her eyes piercing him. "You have a choice to make, Anthony DiNozzo."

"What's that?"

"You may choose to remember or forget what has happened here. Timothy may not because he is a knower and will always remember. He must remember; so that he may pass on the wisdom he has gained, the understanding which my husband gained, to the next knower upon his death; so that no one else will make the same mistake."

"Why do I need to decide to remember or forget?"

"Because no one else will remember what you did here. As it will transpire, when you return to NCIS, you will find that you were sent on a fruitless search for witnesses, a search which led to nowhere. They will not remember Mongothsberd because now...it never existed. It exists for Timothy...and it can exist for you as well...but you must make the choice. Because you saw it all happen, you may be exempt from the disappearance of this place from memory."

"If I choose to forget?"

"As soon as you drive away from this clearing, you will remember only that you were sent out here for no reason at all. Whatever you thought before coming here, you will think it again. It will be as if this time never happened...because for you, it will not have happened."

"If I choose to remember?"

"You will leave and you will know, accepting the consequences of that knowing, while the rest of the world continues on in its ignorance." There was no condemnation of that ignorance, Tony noticed, just a simple statement of fact. The only part of her that was still fully present were her bright green eyes. The rest was fading into transparency.

Tony looked at Tim and remembered watching Tim shoot himself, watching Tim die, seeing him split into three. Those were things he would dearly love to forget and never have to remember again...as he knew he would...especially at three o'clock in the morning.

...but if he did forget everything...he looked at Tim again and saw his weak smile. Tim seemed to know (and probably did, truth be told) what he was thinking. If Tony forgot, it would be back to the sniping, the teasing (which would come again anyway), the fighting. The understanding, the _trust_ that had been built between them because of this experience would be gone, and Tim would know the difference, but Tony wouldn't. Tim would remember all they'd both been through, but Tony would go on in ignorance. Could he really do that? Could he intentionally choose to forget something so huge and massively difficult? Could he knowingly choose to strip their friendship back to the increasingly abrasive interactions they'd been having over the past year?

As he met Tim's gaze, he saw nothing but acceptance of whatever Tony chose...and perhaps a wistful desire that he could make the same choice, that he could forget his experience. Tim had been keeping this secret for a long time; he could continue keeping that secret even after having revealed it once...and yet...

"I don't use up enough of my brain as it is," Tony said finally, turning away from Tim and fixing his gaze back on those piercing green eyes. "Let me keep the memories."

Her face, so serene...so like glass...her eyes still green and bright. She smiled in acceptance of his choice.

"You will remember. Now, I must go...and finally die. Perhaps I will be able to find Sorin...after so many years apart. It would be good to see him again."

She turned to Tim one last time, little more than a faint shape surrounding her eyes which were still so bright.

"Three into one," she said, her voice echoing like a breeze.

Tim held up his right hand and the faint outline of her hand touched his.

"Do not forget."

"I won't."

With a final swirl of green light, she faded away, leaving the two men standing alone in the clearing.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

There was a feeling of emptiness after Rhian's disappearance...but a vague disquiet.

"There's something here," Tony said.

"Yes. It is still here."

"Wait...that thing you were supposed to be killing?"

Tim shook his head and smiled before beginning to walk toward the car.

"I was never supposed to kill it. It's a spirit. It doesn't really live; so I can't make it die. I'm not Superman or anything."

"Coulda fooled me."

Tim chuckled. "What I did was...set them free."

"So...this could happen again?"

"I suppose there's a chance." Tim looked back and Tony followed his gaze. There was a brief swirl of leaves and then a shadowy form which faded from sight after a few seconds. "But it's not likely...I don't think so anyway."

"I hope you're right."

"Me, too." Tim looked at the car. "You can drive, Tony. Believe or not, I'm tired."

Tony looked sharply at Tim and saw the tremulous smile.

"How did you not die, McGee? Did you know that would happen?"

Tim looked away. "No. I didn't. I thought the only way to get him out of me was for me to die. He can't possess something that's dead."

"How then?"

"I don't know for sure. I think...I think it was them. They gave me their life."

"...oh."

Tim opened the passenger side door and got in. Tony followed suit.

"Don't ever do that again."

"Okay," Tim whispered. He looked out the window as Tony backed down the logging road. It was no longer Thoven Lane. For a moment, he thought he saw something and straightened hurriedly. "Wait!"

Tony pushed on the brakes as Tim opened the door and began running back to the clearing.

"McGee! What are you doing?" Tony shouted, getting out and running after him.

At the borders of where Mongothsberd had been Tim dropped to his knees and began to dig into the dirt...beneath a large spreading oak tree. Tony didn't remember the oak tree being there before.

"What are you doing?" he repeated.

Tim didn't answer. He just continued digging at the ground in silence. There was a brief flash of light, but Tim only jumped a little before straightening with what looked like a rock in his, now dirt-covered hands. Then, he walked to the tree and pressed his right hand against the bark. He turned back to Tony.

"I almost forgot."

Tony looked over his shoulder and saw that there was now an image of the dragons on the trunk. He swallowed.

"What did you almost forget?"

"In order to create Mongothsberd, Sorin would have had to mark the boundary." Tim held up the rock. It was rectangular and had a scrawling script running across it. "Without the marker..."

"There's no town?"

"Well...not exactly. This was also part of the...I don't know the word for it, the incantation? ...for creating it. This is just removing all traces."

"Where were they when this started?"

"Somewhere in Europe. It didn't have the same borders back then, of course. A lot more empty spaces."

"Uh...okay," Tony said uncomfortably.

"You could still choose to forget, Tony. We haven't got back onto the main road yet," Tim suggested hesitantly. "You don't have to remember if you don't want to. You could change your mind. I know it's hard...living in a world that has these kinds of things."

"Will the world change if I forget it?" Tony asked.

"No...but you wouldn't know about it."

Tony put an arm around Tim's shoulders...but without the weight as Tim was still very pale. "You would, McGee. I can't have you knowing more than I do. It's insulting to my status as the senior field agent."

Tim laughed and then looked down, hiding his face.

"I was afraid," he whispered softly.

"What?"

"I was afraid. I thought I was going to...worse than die," he said and took a deep breath. He wiped the dirt off the boundary stone and began to pick at the dirt beneath his fingernails.

"I thought you were, too, McGee."

"I'm sorry you had to be here."

"I'm not. I'm glad I was."

"You sure? I'm not."

"Yeah, I am. If you needed someone, I'm glad I could help."

"I'm glad you could, too."

Back at the car, they got in and Tony backed them off the logging road and onto the Blue Ridge Mountain Road. Both of them were silent for a while. Tony thought Tim would fall asleep, but he didn't. He just sat absently rubbing at the stone, eyes almost closed but not quite.

"This really happened, right?"

Tim smiled. "Yeah, it did." He held up his hand. The tattoo was there, a startlingly black knot of lines in the palm of his hand.

"How are you going to explain having a tattoo on your hand?"

"I'm not. No one will see it."

"But I can see it."

"You chose to remember. That means you also chose to see."

"See what?"

"The truth. You think anyone would have noticed anything beyond a little whirlwind back there? You saw that it was the remnants of that spirit."

"So...I'm going to see spirits everywhere now?"

Tim shook his head. "No. I don't think so. I don't. Only when they invade our plane...like the Proprietor did, when they make themselves known. That doesn't happen much. You just get to see what's really there."

"All or nothing?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"...okay."

Tim closed his eyes and fell asleep. As they drove back to NCIS, Tony looked over at him and wondered how it could be possible that such a short time before they had been fighting about...what _had_ it been about?

_Oh, yeah. I was giving McGee a hard time about taking photos correctly. I said he was missing what was really there._

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"So? What did you find? Anything?" Gibbs asked, staring daggers at Tony and Tim as they walked in. No one seemed to notice Tim's slightly dazed look and his jacket covered the very-obvious bullet hole in his shirt.

"Nothing, Boss. Wild goose chase," Tony said. "There was nothing out there."

"Figures," Ziva said, rolling her eyes. "I think we should be able to track down the anonymous tipsters and beat them when they lie."

"Sounds like a good idea," Tim agreed as he walked to his desk, trying not to limp noticeably.

"What happened to you, McGee?" Gibbs barked. "Tony?"

"Nothing, Boss," Tim answered quickly. "I just turned my ankle in a hole. Clumsy." He smiled disingenuously and continued on his way.

"Well, maybe you should watch where you are going, McGee," Ziva said, teasingly.

Tony watched as though from a spectator position as Tim accepted the accusation of absentmindedness without another word. He could leave it there. Tim obviously didn't mind, but knowing, as he did, what Tim had done that day...he just couldn't.

"Wasn't his fault, Ziva. I didn't warn him soon enough that it was there. That was my bad."

The single statement actually had all three of them looking at Tony a little strangely.

"What?"

"Did Tony trip you?" Ziva asked now.

"No. He didn't. I told you. I turned my ankle. That's all."

"I saw it and didn't warn him in time," Tony added.

Tim's expression was nothing less than flabbergasted now and Tony hoped he'd arrange his facial features into something more resembling the knowing glance that kind of statement _should_ warrant.

"Broken?" Gibbs asked.

"No, Boss," Tim said, shaking his head. "Just a bit stiff. I'll be fine."

"Fine. Stay here and coordinate with Abby. Tony, you and Ziva get back out there. I'm tired of getting the runaround." He suddenly stopped and glared at both Tony and Tim. "If I find out that you two went joyriding..."

"We didn't. Honest, Boss," Tim said.

"That was the farthest thing from our minds, promise."

The suggestion was so ludicrous that they almost looked at each other to laugh...but they resisted. Gibbs would definitely think they'd been up to something if they did that. So Tim limped down to the lab and Tony went out with Ziva...and they didn't really even see each other for the rest of the day.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

Tony was nowhere in sight and Tim turned out his lamp before grabbing his bag and limping to the elevator. He'd wanted to say thanks one more time, but he was really tired and he ached all over his body from the things he'd done. He could say thanks later. Right now, he just wanted to sleep...if he could.

Something was bothering him, though. He wasn't sure what it was. A feeling of things being left unfinished. Dangerously unfinished. It made him nervous, antsy, as if he had truly forgotten something, something he knew.

When he got out of the building, he looked over by the pier...and there was Tony, standing on the edge...apparently staring aimlessly out at the Anacostia.

"Tony!" Tim called.

Tony didn't move, didn't turn. The bad feeling increased and Tim dropped his bag by the cannon in Willard Park as he increased his stride. When he reached the edge where Tony was standing, he touched his shoulder.

Tony turned around.

His eyes were black.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Tim would have screamed had he been able. This was what had felt wrong. Now, now, he realized that the wrong feeling had been there since back in the woods...when he had dug up the boundary stone. He'd just been so out of it at the time that he hadn't really noticed.

The low menacing laugh that Tony had heard hours ago now emerged from Tony's lips.

"She couldn't protect him completely," he whispered in a strange and twisted voice. Tony's hands reached out and grasped Tim's neck, closing tighter and tighter.

Tim's mind froze for just a moment and he was terrified that there was nothing he could do, nothing he could say...but he felt a memory surge through him which freed his mind from the paralyzing fear...even as the darkness closed in.

"He's mine. He doesn't know how to fight it. All mine. I can begin again."

"I don't think so," Tim choked out. Abandoning the useless effort of trying to stop those unnaturally strong hands, Tim reached out and pressed his hand against Tony's chest. The grip on his hands loosened and Tony's voice screamed in pain.

"I am sorry, Tony," Tim said, for the second time that day...only this time, it wasn't his voice. It was a different voice and as he said the words, a beam of energy burst from him...so bright it momentarily blinded him, not that it mattered, Tim felt as though his whole life was ending in that moment. Too much energy. The energy...the life which had been preserved and passed down from generation to generation for 400 years.

Tony's hands fell from Tim's neck and Tim collapsed to the ground, seeing only vague shapes of light and dark swirling around Tony...but he heard Tony screaming and he tried to get up, but he couldn't make his limbs work.

Then, he heard a last echoing voice. "Your time is over."

There was another shriek, but this was not from Tony. It was from... Tim tried to clear his vision. The white light surrounded and seemed to destroy the darkness, wrapping it into a smaller and smaller space, pulling it, confining it...until there was nothing left.

Tim lay there and watched as Tony, who had been seemingly frozen in place, wilted and dropped to his knees on the pier. The white light resolved into the shape of a man and he bent over Tony, touching him gently on the eyelids. Tony slumped down onto the pier, unconscious. Then, the...man turned to Tim who still felt as though he couldn't move at all, and touched his palm.

"I thank you."

Tim stared at him and then he knew. "Sorin?"

The man of light nodded. "I swore that I would free Rhian. She is free and Ciar is gone."

"He can't die."

"No, he cannot...but even spirits' existence can end. That is the thing I learned. His existence has ended. He is gone. I have paid the price for my mistake...and Ciar will not be able to compound it."

"Ciar?"

"He is the darkness...made...real. Not alive but existing on our plane. For too long."

"Will...will...Tony be all right?"

"Yes. Tony was not the one he wanted. That is the reason he has survived. Ciar hid deep inside only coming out when he thought he could succeed. _You_ were his target." Sorin touched Tim's heart and his forehead, and Tim felt energy surge into him, renewing his sapped strength. "He needed a knower to be able to set up Mongothsberd again. Tony would have been a secondary addition."

Tim looked over at Tony who still lay unconscious on the pier. Weakly, he pulled himself over and shook him gently.

"You will also recover your strength. I required some of it in order to release my own. A spark to light the blaze."

Tim managed a smile.

"I hope no one happened to look over here. It would be kind of hard to explain."

"No one saw. Time has been slowed to a stop. It will resume when you leave the pier. No one will know."

"Except us?"

"Yes."

"How do you do that?"

Sorin had no discernable features...and like Rhian he was fading away, but Tim got the sense that he would have been smiling.

"You may discover it for yourself...or you may not. It is your potential to know, but be wary of searching for things you do not need. That is where I allowed myself to fall...and my fall nearly destroyed that which I held most dear."

"Will you see her again? Rhian?"

"I can only hope. Perhaps I have adequately atoned for my error. If so, I may find her once my life ends."

"You never died either?"

"No. I put myself into a stasis, like Mongothsberd, until I could be released to fight the battle I swore I would fight."

"Rhian said I couldn't do it alone, that I would need one to help...but only one."

"One to help free the captives. One to help destroy the captor. Together...three, working toward one cause."

"Three into one."

"Yes."

Tim watched him fade and something made him cry out just before the light faded completely.

"Rhian forgave you!"

For a moment, so brief it could almost have been imagined, Tim thought he saw a man standing on the pier, his gray eyes brightening with hope at Tim's words...and then, he was gone.

"McGee?" Tony's voice was cracked.

Tim turned back.

"Tony. How you doing?"

"I see what you meant now. Why you thought dying was the only way."

"I'm sorry you know."

"Me, too. What happened?"

"Sorin annihilated him."

"That sounds pretty final."

"It is."

"Where did Sorin come from? I thought he'd died."

"He didn't. He waited...inside me."

"So...you were possessed, too?"

"In a way, I suppose."

Tony groaned and sat up. "It's over then?"

"So Sorin said."

"You said spirits can't be killed."

"They can't, but apparently they _can_ be destroyed."

"Well, I'm glad that thing was."

"Yeah...me, too."

"How you doing?"

"I'll be okay. I'm just sorry I didn't notice sooner. Something was wrong but I didn't know what. Some knower I am." Tim ran a hand through his hair. It was dripping with sweat...and he felt very very tired.

"Hey, McGee, you did some pretty amazing things today."

"So did you."

"Me? All I did was stand around."

"No," Tim disagreed. "You were...you were strong enough to stick around when everything went absolutely crazy. I couldn't have done it without you. I'd probably be dead...or worse. You were the right choice."

Tony fidgeted with embarrassment. "Well...well, thanks, McGee." Carefully, he got to his feet and then helped Tim up as well. "You know what I'm _not_ going to do now?"

"What?"

"I'm _not_ going to go home and watch a horror movie."

"That sounds like a good plan."

"You want to _not_ watch a horror movie, too?" Tony asked.

"What?"

"I have lots of other movies. We could get pizza and watch some other movies."

Tim had planned on going home and sleeping away the rest of his life, but suddenly, this sounded a whole lot better.

"That...is the best idea I've heard in a long time."

"Great! We'll have a buddy-movie night!"

"A what?"

"Buddy movies!"

Tim gave Tony a blank look as they walked off the pier, hardly noticing that the world was moving along with them now.

"_Lethal Weapon_? _Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid_? _48 Hours_?" Tony looked like he was regretting the suggestion. "_Road to Rio_?"

Tim smiled. "Oh, the Bing Crosby, Bob Hope movie! I've seen the Road Pictures. They're hilarious!"

Tony sighed with relief. "I was about to lose all faith in you, McGee. Okay, Crosby and Hope it is!"

"Which one is your favorite?"

"_Road to Zanzibar_."

"I always loved _Road to Morocco_."

Tony grinned. "'A fine thing. First, you sell me for two hundred bucks. Then I'm gonna marry the Princess; then you cut in on me. Then we're carried off by a desert sheik. Now, we're gonna have our heads chopped off.'"

Tim smiled back. "'I know all that.'"

"'Yeah but the people who came in the middle of the picture don't.'"

"'You mean they missed my song?'"

Tony laughed. "Okay, _Road to Morocco_ it is."

"I don't think I should be driving," Tim said suddenly when they reached his car.

"I'm not sure I should be either. I feel like I'm walking on a waterbed."

"Maybe...maybe I'll call a taxi."

"Man, McGee...you're some sort of special race of human being and you're going to call a taxi?"

Tim rolled his eyes. "I also used to take the bus, remember?"

"Good point. Taxi it is."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x

"_I can't go on! No food, no water. It's all my fault. We're done for! It's got me. I can't stand it! No food, nothing! No food, no water! No food!"_

"_What's the matter with you, anyway? There's New York. We'll be picked up in a few minutes."_

"_You had to open your big mouth and ruin the only good scene I got in the picture. I might have won the Academy Award!"_

The closing credits rolled...but the two men on the couch didn't see them. In fact, they hadn't even seen half the movie. Instead, their snores competed with the music of _Road to Morocco_. ...but when the DVD flipped back to the menu, Tony woke up and looked over at Tim, his head back on the couch, mouth open wide, and laughed softly. Then, he got up and went into the bathroom. Carefully, he lifted up his shirt. There, in the center of his chest was a burn in the shape of the three-headed dragon Tim had on his hand. Tony looked at it for a long moment, wondering briefly if anyone else would be able to see it, and then walked back out. He turned off the DVD and the television. He shifted Tim so that he was sleeping in a bit more comfortable position and then got up to go to bed himself. Before he did, he paused.

"Thanks, McGee."

There was a long silence and then, out of the darkness, there was a soft response.

"Thank _you_, Tony."

What else was there to say?

FINIS!


End file.
